


loose stones

by starksnack



Category: Marvel, earth 3490 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/F, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksnack/pseuds/starksnack
Summary: Natasha is supposed to be picking a spouse from a range of suitors but she's playing hooky with her serving-maid, Stephanie in the forest.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	loose stones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lmao_thunder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmao_thunder/gifts).



> i wrote this fic for a class and diana gave me the idea, after writing it i realized it reads kind of close to holding out for a hero by wordsplat so shout out to that incredible work.
> 
> anyway, this is for diana, happy new year, i hope we can make a lot more memories together this year. thank you for being an amazing friend.

Despite being almost twenty, Natasha finds herself giggling madly like a child as she sneaks out of the castle past her father to frolic in the garden. It’s surprisingly easy, she muses as she ducks past a couple of cooks talking gossip in the kitchen. She’s taken off her shoes, toes cold against the stone as she slinks around the corner where all the produce is brought in each morning. The door is just a couple of paces from there and then after that, she’s home free, breathing in the fresh, warm air. 

The sun is high in the sky, fluffy white clouds and chirping birds betraying the summer season as Natasha tips her face up into the heat. She’s left her crown on the embroidered pillow in her room, she’s going to be wearing one made of flowers soon. It doesn’t weigh as heavily on her. The grass is cool under her feet, her toes digging into the grounding earth. She feels like she could laugh with the wind rustling through the trees, but she isn’t out of the woods yet. One of the knights from her father’s royal guard side-eyes her curiously, but when she holds a secretive finger up to her lips, he only winks in response.

Her chambermaid, Stephanie, is waiting for her on the marble bench in the middle of the garden, soft pink lips quirked up in a smile as she raises her hand in an amused wave. Just a couple of hours prior those same lips had pressed firmly to Natasha’s own as Stephanie laced her dress tight for the ceremony they’re both supposed to be attending right now. Natasha still remembers the sweet taste of Steph’s mouth, the lingering honey that she slathered all over her breakfast bread sticking them together.

Reaching out, Natasha laces their fingers together, tugging Steph off the bench and down the winding path to the forest at the edge of the castle property. Natasha’s hair is out of its severe updo, chocolate curls flying into her face and tangling behind her as she tips her chin up to feel the wind against her cheeks, flushed with exhilaration. Steph’s hand is bigger than hers, the warm weight comforting against Natasha’s palm like it’s meant to be there. They belong together, soulmates from the first moment they’d met..

“Your Highness!” Steph is laughing, warm peals that spill past her lips and fill the cage of Natasha’s ribs with every happiness. A long time ago, Natasha decided she would do anything to keep the overjoyed expression permanently on her beloved’s face. She wears her pleasure so well in all the ways Natasha is afforded the luxury of seeing it. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here,” Natasha exclaims, a histrionic note to her voice. She finally slows as they reach the edge of the woods. The soft leaves of flowers brush her ankles and she delights in the feeling as the edge of her gown brushes the forest floor in a timid embrace.

They’ve been through these trees a thousand times between meeting as children and now. Steph’s mother, Sarah, had been the seamstress for Natasha and her mother, the late Queen Maria, so naturally, Steph became the preferred playmate of Natasha’s youth, the two of them taking the castle by storm with wild games of make-believe. Natasha finds that she still yearns for the overwhelming freedom in her childhood and the lack of obligations that being the heir to the throne now brings.

Steph takes the lead, their joined hands swinging between them as they navigate through the trees toward the bubbling stream. Reaching out with her free hand, Natasha brushes her fingertips along the trunks of towering trees, the bark rough beneath her palms like the callouses on her hard-working hands. Working to make the world a better place for the two of them, carving out forever between seized moments and ephemeral kisses. When she looks back at Steph, the other woman is grinning at her, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she brings Natasha’s fingers up to her lips to brush a kiss across her knuckles.

“Are you going to tell me why you are not at your own party?” Steph asks, though by the understanding looking in her eyes, Natasha knows she already has the answer in mind. They’ve been able to read each other like open books from a young age and time hasn’t changed that. Despite that, Steph still likes to talk things through so they can work at their problems together, as a team, Steph likes to say. Partners in crime, Natasha always retorts with a laugh.

“My father has invited all these pompous royals to the castle, all of them chasing after the crown and the riches that come with it.” Natasha shakes her head in distaste, a shudder running up her spine. When she had seen the carriages rolling up to the front gates this morning, she had immediately had a messenger tell Stephanie to meet her in the garden. “There are some suitable young women, but none of them are you.”

“You flatter me,” Steph scoffs with an exaggerated eye roll that sends Natasha into a fit of laughter. Despite her expression, the sincerity laced in Steph’s arresting blue gaze betrays how much Natasha’s words truly mean to her. They try to affirm their love often, but being from different classes will always be the insecurity between them. No matter what Natasha does, Steph will never believe she’s worthy of the affection Natasha bestows on her. Despite that, Natasha is empowered in her mission to make Steph rich in love. She deserves nothing less.

They’ve come upon the stream now, and Natasha drops her pinchy shoes on the grass, stretching her arms above her head as she basks in the pocket of freedom she’s stolen for herself in this moment away from her father. If it wouldn’t cause mass panic in the castle, she would never return back to the prison of brick walls and turrets. Call her ungrateful, but despite the luxuries of the castle, she would much rather live in the whimsical woods with Steph like the dainty nature fairies they’d pretended to be so many years ago. Royal life is not something Natasha would wish on anyone.

Steph plops down in a patch of dry grass, basking in the sun, not unlike a cat, and Natasha joins her, their shoulders brushing as they both take in the calm nature around them. Some squirrels are flirting in the trees, running across the branches and shaking up a stir of leaves that fall around them both and catch in their hair. Something soft and happy pools in the swell of Natasha’s hips, filling her stomach and running up her throat, threatening to drown her in the sheer satiation of it.

They spend the rest of the afternoon pretending tomorrow will never come, dipping their toes in the stream and trading kisses against sun-warmed cheeks. Steph catches her up on all the latest gossip, both of them snickering at all the romantic happenings that are occurring within the castle walls. Natasha complains to Steph about the battle plans she’s had to draw up, now that she’s gearing to take over the castle’s royal guard and become a knight. They both make plans for the future that will never come to fruition, trips that they will take in the countryside, shops they’ll visit in the square.

Natasha isn’t surprised when Steph tips sideways, pillowing her head in Natasha’s lap with a delighted sigh and rubbing her cheek against the soft fabric of Natasha’s gown. Steph’s eyes slide shut, blonde lashes fanning out against her cheekbones and gently with her fingertips, Natasha traces the freckles dotting Steph’s nose and cheeks, a constellation of beauty spread out across her young face. She wishes for the millionth time that they could stay like this forever.

It’s only been an hour or so judging by the sun’s position in the sky, but surely Natasha’s absence at her own party has been noticed. She only feels mildly guilty about all the suitors she’s left hanging, but it isn’t entirely her fault her heart is fated for someone she isn’t allowed to call her own. It’s a cruel tragedy that she loves Steph so much, though she wouldn’t ever desire to do away with the intensity of her feelings. They make her who she is and that person is someone Steph loves.

“You cannot hide out here forever, Nat,” Steph murmurs slow and quiet what feels like forever later. Natasha is carding her fingers through Steph’s blonde locks, braiding her a crown of her own, jewelled with dainty yellow flowers she’s picked out of the grass and woven in the strands. “Eventually you have to go back to your real life and pick out someone to live out the rest of your day with.”

_ Why can’t this be my life?  _ Natasha wants to plead. Wants to yell and scream until her throat is hoarse and bleeding. She wants this so badly it aches deep in her bones, acid racing through her veins in pure agony. She would gamble away her riches with fate if she could. If it meant she didn’t have to pretend that she wasn’t utterly in love with her best friend. She takes a deep breath and her nose fills with Steph’s calming scent, equal parts lavender and something uniquely her. It calms Natasha enough to quell the raging storm of fire battering her fragile heart.

“I only want you,” Natasha whispers instead. She doesn’t realize there are tears streaking down her cheeks until Steph reaches up to brush at the droplets with the pad of her thumb. “I don’t understand why you refuse to run away with me.”

“My love,” Steph begins, closing her eyes as she draws up her next words. Despite her youth, she has lines by her eyes from all the times Natasha has made her smile, has coaxed a jovial laugh out of her even on bad days. Natasha reaches up to trace her fingers over the lines, evidence that this makes both of them happy. “I can’t give you the luxury and wealth the throne affords, you know I am but-”

“I never wanted pretty dresses and glittering jewelry,” Natasha cuts in, her voice loud and shrill and desperate. She relaxes her clenched fists, eyes lowered as she takes a deep breath, drawing up all the composure she’s known for. She’s not upset with Steph, she’s upset with the way the stars aligned in a way that kept them apart. “Your love is all I’ve ever needed. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Please, I am begging, don’t make me go back.”

“Oh, Natasha,” Steph sighs, her words laced with quiet understanding. Natasha can’t help but think of all the times Steph has said her name, giggled through stolen kisses, soft and severe when she makes an inappropriate joke, on a sigh when she’s happy. Never like this though. Never heartbroken and sad. “Don’t stain the memory of this beautiful day with your tears, my love. I am so incredibly grateful for every stolen moment I get to spend with you and will cherish them with everything that I am for as long as I can.”

“I love you,” Natasha whispers.

Steph sighs, looking up at Natasha. Her sapphire eyes hold years worth of affection, of playing hide and seek as children and holding each other close while dancing, and counting an infinite number of stars. “You know I love you too. Always have and always will.”

Natasha nods resolutely, her mouth set in a firm line. The sun is already dipping low in the purpling sky, clouds heavy and oppressing with oncoming rain for the next day. The ceremony is probably in full swing and her father will have her head if she fails to make an appearance. “Okay, we should go back.”

Steph’s hand is steady in hers as they head to the tower, she’s always been the braver of the two of them, ready to fight wars if it means staying by Natasha’s side. All her life, Steph has been the one Natasha could depend on, the unyielding rock that holds Natasha together. Right now, she needs her more than ever and Natasha is so eternally grateful that she doesn’t have to go through this alone.

At the edge of the forest, they part ways with a brush of lips, Steph slipping in through the back as Natasha tries to brush the leaves out of her hair with her fingers. She halfway to the gate when she realizes she’s left her shoes by the stream, but it’s too late to brave the night and the hungry animals to go back and retrieve them. Perhaps they’ll become home to fantastical creatures, bring new life to the forest until she and Steph can go back together and fetch them.

When she gets to the ballroom, she paints a smile on her face, shaking hands and greeting guests. She receives flowers and chocolates, all of which she will leave for the waitstaff to pick over and take what they desire. She had no use for any of it and doesn’t want to entertain affections she knows she will never return.

Unbeknownst to her suitors, her feet are bare, thankfully covered by the hem of her flowing gown so she’s not embarrassing her father more. Her being in love with a serving-maid is humiliation enough for him. The cold in the marble floor seeps in through her toes, chilling her from the inside out and she resists the urge to shiver as she shifts her weight.

Her father shoots her a pointed look from across the room, brows furrowed in a way that she recognizes as irritation even if the rest of the ballroom can’t see it in the way he’s smiling and conversing. He knows she’s been out with Steph, he’s somehow always able to read it on her face, and she smiles at him, knowing she’ll be receiving a verbal lashing tomorrow about her royal duties and entertaining guests who have crossed long distances just for a minute of her time.

Another smile, another shaken hand and Natasha feels stripped thin, putting everything into the performance of being the perfect daughter, the perfect future Queen the kingdom needs her to be. She briefly remembers the warmth she felt in the woods with Steph and the memory is enough to keep her warm while she suffers through the rest of the greetings.

Later that night, while she’s getting ready for bed, Natasha finds a small yellow flower tucked into the folds of her dress. She smooths her fingers over the fabric before picking up the dark green stem and turning it over in her hands.

The flower doesn’t have a scent when she brings it to her nose, but she keeps it anyway, setting it on her dresser. It’s the same kind of flower she’d braided into Steph’s hair and she’s sure her lover will let out a chuckle when she sees it the next morning, teasing Natasha about her nostalgia. The thought keeps her company as she tucks herself into her big lonely bed.

Blinking awake the next morning, Natasha yawns, squinting into the light coming through the large windows. The drapes are flowing with the breeze and Natasha smiles at the floral scent to the air. It’s unusual for her to wake up on her own. Since getting together, not a single day had gone by where Steph hadn’t woken her with the kiss, a routine that Natasha has become painfully accustomed to. She frowns slipping out of bed, her feet cold against the tile. Steph always placed her slippers at the foot of her bed, but she can’t find those either.

With furrowed brows, Natasha moves around her room, looking for a cloak, shivering all the while. She pushes the drapes aside, the sun warming her face for a moment, before the wind is rushing to bite coldly against her cheeks and she’s back to shuddering in her thin nightgown.

Finally she locates a cloak in her wardrobe, pulling it over her form and tying it tight around her waist. Scrubbing a hand down her face, she shuffles to the bookshelf. There’s a passage there that connects her room to Steph’s that her father put in back when they were kids so they would stop running down the hallway and yelling at each other.

Flipping down a book the door squeaks open, squealing with disuse as Natasha brushes away cobwebs to get to the twin door in Steph’s room. The air is musty and her nose wrinkles, remembering why they’d stopped using it. When she gets to the other side, Steph’s room is tellingly empty, the bedsheets on the floor and the dresser drawers open and devoid of Steph’s personal belongings. Natasha’s breath hitches in her throat, anxiety and worry churning in her stomach as she braces herself against the bedpost.

The moment she’d woken up alone in her room, she’d known. Steph loves her routine and wouldn’t break it for anything, not even if the castle was burning around them. Natasha has always taken it for granted. She’d do anything to wake up from this nightmare to the press of lips against her own.

The silence in the room is deafening in Natasha’s ears as she tries not to hyperventilate. Her knuckles are white around the wood of the bedpost and she’s torn between pressing her face against Steph’s pillow begging for scraps of her scent or setting it ablaze and throwing it all out the window because she’s alone and she hates it and she hasn’t felt this way since before. She doesn’t remember her life before Steph.

Kidnapped or beheaded or run away, Natasha has no idea. Stephanie is gone and she’s taken years of Natasha’s life and everything she is with her.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me on [tumblr](https://starksnack.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/starksnack/).


End file.
